


Every Single Thing I Do

by NeroIris



Series: Minewt AUs [16]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 13:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20154604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeroIris/pseuds/NeroIris
Summary: The blonde turned to him, a grin tugging on his lips. Behind him, Minho heard Thomas mutter something about getting a front row seat to seeing Minho get shot down twice in one night. Minho ignored him.“I’m Newt,” the other man said, amused.“I’m, uh, M-minho,” he spluttered, mentally smacking himself.And then everything changed. Thomas had always said that time would break Minho out of his unhealthy habits, but he was wrong. It wasn’t time, no, it was finding the right person.-OR- Angsty Minewt songfic





	Every Single Thing I Do

_I met you by the pool, so free and careless_  
T _hat evening didn’t go as we had planned_  
_But I knew I had to bring you out to see me  
_ _I was a selfish boy in love with half a heart in his hand_

When Minho woke up, the first thing he saw was green. The sheets draped over his unclothed body were green, unfamiliar, and had an unwelcome roughness. His body woke up after his eyes, alerting him with a splitting pain in his skull and a bout of nausea.

“Fuck,” was all he could say.

“Well that’s a word for it,” came a female voice in reply.

With effort, he propped himself up on his arm to investigate its source. His head continued screaming. “-what? Who?”

“I’m Beth.”

“Minho,” he grunted.

She nodded back, her brown curls bouncing along with the movements, though quickly seemed to think better of it. Minho would bet that a similar headache ricocheted through her skull. She pushed herself out of the bed, gathering her discarded clothing slowly, wobbly. She ducked into what Minho presumed was the bathroom, but reemerged a minute later, half dressed with a cup of water in her hand.

“Here’s some Advil,” she said, laying it on the table next to Minho along with the cup. “I’m going to shower, you have a ride out of here?”

“Uh,” he replied, his mouth working faster than his brain. “Yeah.”

And then she left.

He took the pills, downing the rest of the water as well. Though he briefly considered lying back down for a few minutes, he didn’t want to be here when she came out. Despite his body’s protests, he struggled to stand and fish his phone out of his jeans. It was still alive, miraculously, and he dialed Thomas’s number.

His friend sighed on the other end of the line almost as soon as he answered. “Where are you, dumbass? I’ll come get you.”

Not two weeks later, boredom struck Minho again and, despite his friend’s protests, they ended up at the same dodgy bar. It was a constant cycle of dragging Thomas out for ‘just a drink or two,’ getting trashed, hooking up, and getting his ass hauled home the next morning. He really didn’t deserve Thomas.

“You’re coming home with me,” the brunette said after their third round of beers came.

Minho chuckled, “Sorry, man, I don’t see you that way.”

“_Minho_,” his friend warned. “I mean it, one of these days I’ll stop saving your dumb ass.”

He held his hands up in defeat, “fine, fine.”

His promise did not stop him from hitting on the next girl that walked in the bar. Thomas shot him an annoyed look, but Minho waved him off. There wasn’t any harm in flirting.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, sauntering up to her and trying hard to enunciate properly. “Can I buy you a drink?

She gave him a pitiful look, then held up her left hand. “I’m taken.”

“I was too, as soon as you came through that door,” he continued, undeterred. She scoffed and turned away from him.

Thomas, on the other hand, was cracking up on the other side of the bar. “Now I definitely don’t regret coming out with you,” he wheezed between laughs as a dejected Minho plopped down next to him. Minho channeled all of his disappointment into a withering glare. “Oh lighten up,” Thomas said, calming down. “You could do with being shot down more often.”

“I’ll just have a gin and tonic,” came a smooth voice from beside the two of them. Minho spun around, maybe a little too fast with the alcohol already in his system, and came face to face with a mop of sandy blonde hair and a crooked smile.

“Uh, hi.”

The blonde turned to him, a grin tugging on his lips. Behind him, Minho heard Thomas mutter something about getting a front row seat to seeing Minho get shot down twice in one night. Minho ignored him.

“I’m Newt,” the other man said, amused.

“I’m, uh, M-minho,” he spluttered, mentally smacking himself. And then everything changed. Thomas had always said that time would break Minho out of his unhealthy habits, but he was wrong. It wasn’t time, no, it was finding the right person.

_We would dance all night not caring who was watching_  
_Live life like there was nothing we could lose_  
_But I was wrong and there is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do  
_ _To relive every moment spent with you_

“Miinho,” Newt whined, hands roaming over his boyfriend’s back. Up and down, up and down, slipping _just_ under his shirt.

Minho’s lips were everywhere, Newt’s neck, his lips, his face. His hands, too, explored the familiar body beneath him, mirroring Newt’s constant motions. He gasped as the blonde captured his bottom lip between his teeth. “You have-” he groaned, “no idea what you do- ah- to me.”

Newt rocked his clothed hips into Minho’s, smirking around the other man’s lips, “I know _exactly_ what I do to you.” He hooked his good leg around the Asian’s and flipped them over in a swift movement. His wandering hands pushed the other man’s shirt up, up, over his head.

Minho’s lips were back on his neck, sucking marks that wouldn’t leave for days. He wanted more, he always wanted more with Newt. He was intoxicating, somehow filling Minho with life while also taking away his breath.

“Minho, I-” and then a persistent ringing filled their ears. They both shot up, searching for the sound while protecting their ears. It only took Newt a few moments to figure it out, “Minho, the fire alarm! Go!”

They scrambled out of the bed towards the kitchen, shirts forgotten.

“Oh, shit, the cookies!” Newt shouted as he arrived at the scene, shutting off the oven. His boyfriend rushed to the smoke detector, trying in vain to shut it off.

“How do I turn it off?!?”

Newt fought to put on an oven mitt. “I don’t know! Look for a reset button!”

“There isn’t one! I’m just going to hit it really hard!

“With what??” Victorious in his battle the oven mitt, Newt rushed to pull the burning cookies out of the oven. He tossed the entire tray in the sink, then pulled open a drawer at random. He jumped for the rolling pin, the only thing that looked even remotely useful, when his eye caught a little black box. Rolling pin forgotten, his curiosity pushed him towards the box, picking it up and opening it carefully.

“Minho?” His boyfriend glanced at him briefly, before returning to hack at the alarm with his shoe. “Babe, what is this?”

Newt didn’t wait for an answer. He pushed off the lid and sucked in a breath. “Min, oh my god.”

His boyfriend ignored him, still locked in battle against the fire alarm. “Newt, could you please help?”

“Is this an engagement ring?”

Suddenly the world stopped. The noise of the fire alarm and the smell of burnt cookies evaporated and all Minho could see was Newt, wide-eyed and curious. “Yes,” he breathed out.

“Okay.”

Minho cocked an eyebrow, “okay what?”

“Let’s get married.”

With that, all the noise of their chaotic life came screaming back at Minho but he didn’t care. Their entire apartment could be burning down around them. None of it mattered. He had Newt.

_As time went by I was driven by deception_  
B _ut you’ve always stood beside me and you prayed_  
_That I’d see the pain I caused but I chose to look right through  
_ _I let you down and watched you slip away_

Minho staggered through the door to their apartment. The low hum of a car engine signaled that Thomas was pulling away. As quietly as possible, he pulled the door shut behind him and made his way over to the kitchen. It was late, too late, and he prayed Newt was already asleep.

He wasn’t.

A mop of blonde hair greeted him at the kitchen table, bent over a thick book. Newt didn’t have to look up for Minho to know there were dark rings under his eyes. They’d danced their way through this routine countless times.

“Hey,” Minho said softly, hoping to avoid an argument. “You shouldn’t have stayed up for me.”

“I _shouldn’t _have?” Newt bit back, his tone cold. Minho winced. “If we’re going to play this game, you shouldn’t have gone out.”

“You know I’m trying to make friends at my new job. Don’t fault me for that.”

“Bullshit, Minho. You’ve been saying that for _months_. It’s not new anymore.”

“So what, I like to go out for a drink-”

Newt snorted, his beautiful features marred by anger. “_One_ drink? Thomas had to go pick you up.”

“A few drinks, what’s the difference. Do you not trust me?”

“I don’t,” the blonde replied matter-of-factly. “A couple weeks ago I sent Thomas-”

“You _sent_ Thomas? What, am I five?”

Newt ignored him. “He saw you dancing up on some girl.”

Minho’s heart sunk but he pressed on, unwilling to let the matter rest now that it was brought up. “Nothing happened, why can’t you just trust me. I just want to have fun.”

Newt didn’t bother masking the pain that flitted across his features. “Fun,” he said solemnly. So quiet Minho would have missed it had he not seen Newt’s thin lips move. “I used to be your idea of fun.”

Minho sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The gel he’d put in earlier was loosening and a few pieces fell down around his eyes. “Babe, you still-”

“Am I though?” The blonde shot back, not missing a beat. “When’s the last time we actually spent time together, aside from sleeping and eating. You look for every excuse to get out of the apartment.”

“That’s not true,” Minho protested weakly, though he racked his brain to think of their last true date, one not involving pajamas or takeout, and came up emptyhanded. His fiancé pressed his lips together, as if to stop himself from a scathing retort, and simply shook his head. “You know I love you, Newt.”

And then, in a whisper, “I’m starting to wonder if that’s enough.”

_I’d never lost it all till I lose you_  
_But I was much too reckless and I broke your heart in two_  
_A million bits of hope, now you’ll never know the truth  
_ _You’re part of every single thing I do_

Three years later, Minho found himself sat in the corner of an unfamiliar coffee shop, some hipster place Thomas had chosen that made art out of the coffee foam and had an entire wall of tea leaves to choose from. Typical Thomas. His friend was weaving his way through the narrow aisles back to their seat.

“I can’t believe two regular coffees cost nearly ten dollars.” Thomas complained as he sat down, pushing one of the mugs towards Minho.

Minho hummed absently, “you picked the place.”

His friend shrugged, “I don’t come here often.” Thomas raised his cup to his lips, blowing slightly then wincing as the hot liquid splashed onto his hand. Minho eyed the silver band that adorned his best friend’s ring finger. The wedding had taken place two years ago and Minho, as the best man, had tried his hardest to force a smile and celebrate love when he’d been sleeping alone for weeks. A scowl crossed his face but he was quick to rearrange his features before Thomas noticed.

“How’s Theresa?” He asked flippantly, not sure he wanted an update on Thomas’ perfect life.

If his friend noticed the attitude, he didn’t comment. “She’s been good. Actually, uh, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Minho smirked, “Still thinking about leaving her and running off into the sunset with me? Sorry, mate, I don’t think you’re my type.”

“Shove off, Minho,” with an eye roll. “No, actually, she’s pregnant.”

“Who’s the father?” Minho quipped back, not missing a beat. “Because I swear it’s not me. It only happened like once, maybe twice.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” Still, the news darkened Minho’s mood considerably. He barely saw his oldest friend as it was; this meeting was the first in nearly a month and felt tense and forced. With both working full time and Thomas starting a family, well, there would just be no more room in his life for Minho. That’s how it always seemed to be; Minho watched his friends get married and disappear when all he had to show for was a string of unsuccessful relationships.

“Anyway, we got the news yesterday. We’d been trying for months, we thought something might be wrong.”

Minho forced a smile and offered a weak congratulations. His bitter mood might’ve made way for true excitement had it not been for the soft ding of the door accompanied by two figures eager to escape the crisp autumn chill. Minho’s breath hitched. Though the first man was bundled up in what looked like a thick coat and two scarves, jesus it was only November, the sandy blonde hair and serious eyes were unmistakable. Newt. Beside him stood another man, shorter but approximately the same age, with a smile tugging on his cheeks and a softness etched into his expression. Minho watched as the other man took Newt’s hand in his own and gave it a firm squeeze. Something akin to jealousy rumbled deep inside Minho but he knew it was misplaced. Newt wasn’t his and hadn’t been for years. Still, his heart panged for what once was.

Evidently Minho had been staring for a while, as his usually oblivious friend followed his gaze. “Shit. I’m sorry, Minho. We can leave.”

The Asian shrugged. He had to be okay with it. Had to move on. “It’s fine.” A lie.

Newt and his new man headed towards Minho, no, he corrected, towards the counter. As before, Minho was just a stop along the way, another obstacle before Newt reached the final destination. Minho felt his heart beating, trying to escape his chest like he wished he could escape the situation. He wasn’t sure if he should jump up and greet his ex-fiancé casually or shrink into nonexistence. But before his anxiety ridden mind could decide, Newt was upon them.

He offered Minho a slight, forced smile and a nod before walking out of Minho’s life forever.

_Now you’re gone ‘cause I forgot about loving you_

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I'm SO sorry, I know it's been literal years since I've posted. This is an older one from my tumblr (becarefuldontdienewt) that I haven't yet posted to AO3. My hope is to wrap up the Soulmate Series within the next few months and to finish and post one more Minewt-centric story that I've been working on for...way too long. I know that this fandom is pretty quiet now, but I've already done so much work on these stories that it'd be a shame to never post.
> 
> Thanks to anyone who's stuck around!


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